When Family is But a Broken Word
by A Field of Starlight
Summary: They were brothers and sisters. They lived together. They looked out for each other. They were family. They were supposed to live in harmony. But for the nations, nothing ever goes as it should. EXTREMELY historical series of oneshots.
1. China and Japan

Author's Note: This is based off the strip where Japan betrays China. I was wondering what came after, so... this was born!

Thoughts are written in _italics_.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!

* * *

**_- Summer, 1894, China's home -_**

"Gomennasai, Chuugoku-san..."

Japan stands in the shadows next to the door of China's home.

"Japan? Japan, why are you outside this late at night, aru? Come inside, I made zongzi!"

Wordlessly, Japan unsheathes his katana and raises it.

"What are you doing with that, aru? Why are you pointing it at me?"

Japan slashes at China, who jumps backwards.

"JAPAN, STOP IT, ARU!" China instinctively whips out his trusty wok. Japan, undeterred, springs forward and begins to duel his older brother.

"Wha... What are you..." China's questions are cut short by Japan's relentless attack. Soon he is pressed up against the side of the house. Japan feints to the side, causing China to spin away, his back momentarily facing his younger brother as he attempts to dodge the blade. Japan slashes downwards, and a wound opens on China's back.

"AAAAHH!"

China falls to the ground face down, his blood spattering on the ground. He tries to get up, but is too weak. He realizes that this was not just something that happened to him; rather, it was something that had happened to his country. _Japan... Japan has invaded me?_

"I'm sorry, China... but I need to be stronger. And... this is the only way..."

China turns his head and is shocked to see the normally calm and emotionless Japan crying. But the younger nation turns away before his older brother can get a good look, and leaves with only a few words of farewell.

"Wakare, Chuugoku..."

But China can hear the immense sadness behind his words.

* * *

**_- That night, Location indeterminate -_**

Their tears strike the ground like rain, a thousand _li_ apart, as they cry for when they had been close; after all, China had raised Japan. But now, both feared that they could never be brothers again.

Japan had never really acknowledged that China was his brother when they were in public; in fact, he had denied it multiple times. But he knew that they were brothers, though their countries, their cultures, their words were different. He loved his brother, and he feared that by betraying him, they could never have what they once had again, and that China would never forgive him.

China had cared for Japan since he found the young nation in the bamboo thickets. He had raised him, nurtured him, protected him more than he had any of his other siblings. He remembered back when Japan was young and used to call him nii-chan. Though it wasn't in his language, the title had warmed China's heart. Now he feared that Japan would never want to be his younger brother again.

And so they cried, the two ancient nations, both thousands of years old. They cried for what had been lost, and they cried for what might have been.

* * *

**_- A year before, China's home -_**

"Aiyaa... There's so much political unrest in my country right now, aru. It's really making my body hurt. I'm too old for this, aru..."

China leaned back and closed his eyes, tired after a day of running back and forth between different factions of his government, trying to reach a compromise.

"Here, China-san, I made you some tea."

China opened his eyes to see Japan coming out of his house, carrying a tea set.

"Ah, thank you, aru! Mmm..." China hummed as he took a sip. "Did I ever tell you how good your tea is, Japan?"

"Hai, multiple times, but it certainly cannot compare to yours. After all, tea originated in China."

"But you definitely improved it in many ways, aru." China smiled and sipped at his tea again.

"And please don't argue with me over it, aru," China said, seeing Japan open his mouth to protest. "I know it's in your culture to show humility; well, it's mine, too, but we've had this discussion before, aru!"

"Ah... Alright, China-san..." Japan sat down next to his older brother on the front porch.

"Say, Japan, why are you here? Doesn't your boss have work for you to do, aru?"

"Well, yes, but he's letting me have some time to myself for now. Tensions between our countries are rising, China-san, surely you've noticed."

"Aiyaa... Let's not talk about that, aru. It's not often that my favorite little brother comes to visit! Come, I'll make us dinner."

Japan nodded and followed.

The dinner was simple, but delicious. After cleaning up, the two Asian nations went back outside to sit on the porch and talk.

"What are you going to do in the future, aru?" China said, breaking the silence.

"Eh... well, I want to get stronger. The Western powers are most likely going to come to Asia, and I plan to fight them at all costs when the time comes."

"Ah... that's making my head hurt! I meant it as a simple question, aru!" China shifted so that he was leaning on his hands.

"Japan, look! The rabbit on the moon is pounding medicine, aru!" China pointed at the full moon enthusiastically.

"It's making mochi," Japan deadpanned.

China smiled, and after a while, Japan did too.

Together, the two nations enjoyed an evening of peace.

* * *

**_- Spring, 1895, Japanese ship in the East China Sea -_**

China stands defeated behind his leaders as they sign the treaty to end the war. He wears an expression of calm, his posture perfect, his gaze fixed to a spot in the distance. But inside, he is in turmoil.

He longs to hate his brother for what he did; no, not just hate, he wants to rip Japan apart. But he still loves his brother. _How could he do this to me? How? Why? Please..._

"China? China, get a grip," one of the generals present whispers to him. "It's your turn soon."

China nods stiffly and advances toward the low table they were using for negotiations. He lowers himself down, picking up a brush. When the treaty is handed to him, he leans over to sign...

And finds that he can't. His grip tightens on the writing instrument, threatening to break it as he tries to force himself to form the strokes that would end the war. His arm trembles. He squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring his hair, which has fallen over his shoulder.

Then, a gentle hand loosens his grip on the brush, which clatters to the ground. China looks up...

Into the eyes of Japan.

In a moment, all of their emotions are revealed to each other.

China's eyes hold love, and hate, and determination, and pain, and most of all, confusion, almost exactly mirroring Japan's. But instead of hate and confusion, Japan's eyes hold sorrow and regret.

Tears well up in China's eyes, and he jerks his gaze away, snatching up the fallen brush and carelessly scribbling his signature onto the paper. He shoves the writing utensil toward Japan, then stands and goes to the other end of the room.

Japan blinks, surprised to feel the wetness in his eyes. He shakes it away, and adds his own signature next to his sibling's. He then moves to leave the room, but before he steps out, he is shoved aside as China flees before him.

Japan suddenly realizes that his brother had stuffed something in his hand. It was a piece of paper.

_"Even if our countries are different, if our words are different, if our characters are different, I will always want to gaze at the same moon as you."_

_Me too,_ Japan thinks, turning his gaze toward the night sky. _Watashi wa wasurenai..._

* * *

**_- Summer, 1937, China's home -_**

The second time, China is prepared.

He collapses on his bed after a long day of running back and forth between his two political parties, the Nationalist party and the Communist Party, trying to stop the fighting between the two.

"Aiyaa... Why do they have to fight so much, aru? I hurt all over... This political unrest is not healthy for me, aru..."

His door scrapes open, and China looks up, curious.

It is Japan.

China's gaze immediately hardens, his tone becoming dark. "Japan, what are you doing here, aru?"

"China-san... Can we have a day of peace? Can we forget our rivalries, just for today?"

Japan looks up from the floor, his eyes pleading, though his expression is still neutral. China's heart softens a bit, and he sits up.

"I have water boiling; I will go make some tea, aru. Why don't you go sit on the porch?"

They both hear the unspoken _where we used to sit_.

"Of course."

A few minutes later, China walks out, carrying a tray of tea. He sits and sets the tray down between them, pointedly ignoring the fact that Japan's katana is unsheathed, and laid next to him, out in the open.

After all, his own sword is casually leaning against the wooden support nearest to him.

Japan picks up a cup of the tea, inhaling the steam rising off of its surface. He takes a sip and sighs in contentment.

"It's been too long, nii-chan."

China glances sharply over at Japan.

"Why did you call me that, aru?" he asks carefully.

"What?" Japan thinks over what he said, blushing a bit when he realizes what he had called China. "O-Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, it's fine, aru. It just surprised me a bit, that's all."

China smiles, trying to relieve the tension. He quickly changes the subject.

"Ah, Japan, you're lucky that your people are united right now, aru. This fighting between my political parties is painful."

Japan gives a small smile. "But at least you aren't on bad terms with Russia, like me."

China shudders a bit. "He is scary, isn't he aru..."

They spend the rest of the afternoon complaining about their troubles, although both avoided speaking of Japan's occupation of Manchuria.

By the time the sun set, the two nations are laughing together again. But as the moon rises, China's face falls.

"So this is it, isn't it, aru? We'll have to go back to being enemies again..."

"Hai..." Japan's tone is wistful. He picks up his katana, not caring that China is watching. He examines the weapon, then grips it tightly.

"I see..." China's own sword is out, ready for use. He stands up calmly, and Japan does, too. For a moment, neither moves. Then China sighs.

"Leave, Japan. You do what you have to do, and I will do what I have to, aru."

Japan nods, backing away warily. When he at the edge of the porch, he turns and steps off. He pauses, looking up at China one last time. Then he walks away.

China lowers his sword and wipes the tears from his eyes. He notices a slip of white against the ground.

_What is that? _He walks over, picking up the object. It turns out to be a piece of paper. But not just any piece of paper.

No, this is the paper he slipped Japan over 30 years ago. _He... he kept this? All these years?_

China turns the paper over in his hands. On the back is a new line of characters, written in Japan's handwriting.

_"Beneath the god who illuminates the sky, let us weave our history for another thousand years..."_

China lifts his eyes, letting them settle on the bright moon. _We weave our history in blood, Japan. I cannot go on like this. _"Zài jiàn..."

* * *

**_- Winter, 1941, Somewhere in China -_**

China almost laughs when he hears that Japan had attacked America. But he doesn't. He can't bring himself to feel joy at the fact that another country would be joining the fight against Japan. Though he hates his brother for all the pain inflicted upon his people, he still fears for Japan's safety.

_America is an impulsive young nation. Who knows what he will do... Japan, do be careful..._

But China knows that this could not have come at a better time. Since the Soviet Union had withdrawn their military support that spring, after signing a non-aggression pact with Japan, China had been fighting alone. Having another ally would help him greatly.

And sure enough, the United States soon sends a group of fighter planes to fight against the Japanese.

China is waiting when America arrives at the airfield.

"Hey, China! How're you doing?"

"Fine, aru," China replies. "I'm here to show you and your people around, and to give you a general briefing of the situation."

"Dude, that's great! Hey, you should totally join the Allies! I mean, since we're all fighting against the Axis of Evil, and all."

China looks at America curiously."What 'Axis of Evil', aru?"

"Dude, you haven't heard? You know, Germany, Italy, and Japan! They're the Axis powers, right? Therefore, Axis of Evil!"

China stiffens at the mention of Germany and Italy. "I... do not think that is the best idea, aru. Germany and Italy are my friends..."

America merely gives China a blank stare. "Dude, they're allied with Japan. Japan is your enemy. That makes Germany and Italy your enemies, too."

"Things are not so clear cut, America, aru. It is only because of Germany that my military is as strong as it is now. He trained my military, and sent financial support for my modernization movement, among other things. I would not feel comfortable turning against him now, aru."

"Aww, c'mon, China! PLEASE join the Allies?" America does his best puppy dog face.

China sighs. "I suppose it would be good for our war effort, aru... Fine."

"Yeah! Welcome to the Allies, China!"

"Yes, yes, now focus on the briefing, aru!"

* * *

**_- Early August, 1945, China's home -_**

China almost drops the phone in shock. "No... Tell me that's not true!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, China. America has used nuclear weapons against Japan, and there is nothing I can do to change that fact."

"You are lying, ahen!" China's voice shakes in rage.

"I am not. I would have thought you would be glad for this, China." England somehow manages to stay calm.

"I... I am! But I can't- Russia just invaded Manchuria, and I can't- AGH! I am so fed up with this war, ahen!"

"Calm down, China. I do not think Japan will keep fighting for much longer, after what has happened. Expect to see a surrender within the next few weeks." With that, England hangs up.

China stares at the phone in his hand. He supposes it is good that England had hung up on him; if he hadn't, China does not know how he would have explained to the island nation that he is worried for Japan.

China looks out of his eastern window, into the first light of dawn. _Japan, you always claimed that you were the land of the rising sun. But even the rising sun will eventually set..._

* * *

**_- Early September, 1945, American ship in the Tokyo Bay -_**

Japan looks bad.

Though he is a master of hiding the pain, China is still able to see it in his body language. The way his posture is a little too stiff, the slight tightening of his mouth, the almost undetectable trembling of his hands...China knows his little brother is hurting, and all he wants is to take him home and care for him.

_Japan... Stay strong, just for now. As soon as we finish signing the papers, I promise I'll take you home right away._

For now, though, China contents himself with squeezing his brother's hand for just a second as he walks past the younger nation.

Startled, Japan looks up, but China has already walked farther on in the direction America had disappeared. He looks down again, at the slip of paper, now worn and tattered, in his hand. It's the same one he gave to China almost ten years ago, the same one China had originally given to him 40 years ago. Japan runs his fingers over the surface, coming to a stop at the bottom of the strip. On each side, under the lines of characters they had written, is one word.

On the side where China had originally written his note, the characters are written in the Japanese order. 平和. Heiwa.

On the other side, where Japan had written his reply, the characters are written in the Chinese order. 和平. Hépíng.

Both mean peace.

Japan is surprised to find tears on his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away as the other Allies arrive.

Without a word, Japan follows them.

When they arrive at the meeting place, the official declaration of surrender is already set out. America, unusually quiet for once, gestures for Japan to go first. Hesitating only a little, Japan approaches the table. He picks up a pen and places the tip on the paper.

But his hand is trembling, hard. He mentally berates himself for showing weakness, and tries to steady his arm.

Then, suddenly, China is by his side. The older nation gently takes Japan's hand in his own, lifting it off of the paper. Japan looks up, into the concerned eyes of his brother.

In that moment, they do not need words. Japan can see the question in China's eyes: Are you OK? And China can see as Japan searches within himself, finally finding the strength to nod slightly.

China releases his brother's hand, and Japan bends down once more to place the pen on the paper. This time, he does not hesitate.

He signs, then straightens and backs away.

One by one, the Allies sign the documents, too. First America, then China, England, and Russia. Then comes Australia, Canada, France, the Netherlands, and finally New Zealand.

Japan sways a little, relief washing over his features. _Finally, the war is over..._

But the relief quickly turns to pain, and he crumples to the ground. He can hear the Allies' exclamations of shock.

The last thing he sees before the world fades to black around him is China's concerned face, and his brother's voice, yelling his name.

* * *

"_JAPAN!_"

* * *

**_- A few weeks later, Japan's home -_**

Japan opens his eyes, blinking in the sudden light. He looks around. _Where am I...?_

It takes him a moment to recognize his room. It had been so long since he had last been there... All through the war, he had either been in Europe with Germany and Italy, or living with his soldiers on the front lines of the war.

He tries to sit up, but pain flares in his abdomen, and he falls back down with a cry. His door opens, and China rushes in.

"Japan! What happened, aru?"

"Ahh... China-san... Don't worry, I just tried to sit up..." Japan tries to calm his brother down.

"You're injured, you shouldn't be moving, aru."

"Hai, I know... Sumimasen..."

Japan is suddenly engulfed in a hug.

"Oh, Japan, I was so worried about you, aru! You should have stayed at home, signing the papers could have waited, we could have signed them here, at your home-" China's rambling is cut short by Japan gently pushing him away.

"Please stop, China-san. What's done is done." Japan struggles to sit up again, ignoring the pain and China's protests.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"A few weeks, aru."

"Then I must go see the damage!" Japan tries to stand up, only to have China push him down again.

"No, you're too weak, aru!"

"But... It's my country, I have to see..."

China and Japan lock eyes for a moment, then China turns away. "Next week, aru. We can go see next week."

"Ah... Alright..."

"I'll go get your medicine and some food, aru. You must be starving." China leaves the room, and Japan settles back on his pillows.

A bit later, China returns carrying a bowl of medicine and a tray of food.

"Here, drink this first, aru."

Japan accepts the offered bowl of medicine, grimacing a little as he tastes the bitter concoction. He forces it all down with minimal gagging, then hands the bowl back to China. China quickly places it aside, then sets the food on Japan's lap.

Japan looks down in surprise. It is his favorite meal; rice, miso, pickled plums, and pickled salmon.

"Are you sure I should be eating this, China-san? I remember Germany and Italy telling me to cut down on the salt..."

"Aiyaa, those Europeans worry too much. You have been eating like this for centuries, aru. Why let it worry you now?" China smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, his expression reminiscent of the days before the war.

Japan smiles a little. "That is true."

China sits down next to the wall, leaning his head back on it. "I miss the old days, aru. When every day was like this..."

Japan nods. "When we were all one happy family... Hong Kong setting off fireworks everywhere, Vietnam smacking everyone with her paddle, Thailand and North Korea reading together, South Korea attempting to claim our breasts... Speaking of him, where is South Korea?"

"He went back to his own country, aru. Since you surrendered, he is no longer under any obligation to stay in your home, and his government wanted him back, so..."

"Oh..." Japan's previously happy mood drops.

China sighed. "I shouldn't really be here either, aru. My country really does not like yours right now. But I couldn't just leave you..."

"Thank you for staying with me, China-san..."

"Just focus on getting well, aru." China gives Japan a small smile.

"Of course."

* * *

**_- A week later, Hiroshima_**_** -**_

Japan leans on China as he stands at the edge of the nuclear blast zone at what was once the proud city of Hiroshima. Unconsciously, his hand moves to cover one of the wounds on his abdomen. China, however, notices his movement and quickly asks him if he is OK.

"I'm alright, China-san."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should get you home, aru. You're still healing..."

"I'm fine. Just let me stay?" Japan pleaded.

"... OK, aru. But if you start to wobble, I will drag you home!" China tries to look stern, but his worry still shows.

"Alright, China-san. Um... Can we go in?" Japan gestures towards the ruins of the city.

"Ah... why would you want to do that, aru?" China frowns.

"I... want to see the damage closer up... Although from the air would be nice, too..." Japan says, thinking to himself as much as he is answering China's question.

"Alright, fine, aru. But not for too long, there is still radiation!"

Japan slowly makes his way through the ruins with China's help. Before long, they reach spot where the bomb was dropped. Ground Zero.

Without a word, Japan pulls away from China and kneels on the ground, his lips moving silently as tears stream down his cheeks.

China backs away to a respectful distance, giving Japan his privacy to mourn his dead citizens.

After a while, Japan stands up again, stumbling a bit. China rushes over to support him, carefully leading him away.

As they reach the edge of the city, Japan speaks up.

"China-san, please take me to Nagasaki."

"Are you sure you are strong enough, aru?"

"Yes, I am fine..."

"Alright, then..."

Without another word, they turn to the south.

* * *

**_- Same day, Nagasaki -_**

The same occurred again at Nagasaki. They entered, found the drop site, and Japan mourned.

As they made their way out of the ruins, Japan stumbles a bit. China immediately catches him, holding Japan until the younger nation is steady again.

"We should go home now, aru. You don't look good, and you need a change of banda-"

"HEY JAPAN! CHINA! HAHA, fancy seeing you here!"

Both Asian nations look up in surprise at the energetic Western nation Coming towards them.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, ARU?! Do you have no shame? You dare show your face after what you did to Jap-"

Japan lays a hand on his brother's shoulder, cutting China off with a slight shake of his head.

"Why are you here, America-san?" Japan's normally neutral voice is cold.

"Dude, no need to get all hostile-"

"NO NEED TO GET ALL HOSTILE, ARU? YOU INSOLENT, ARROGANT LITTLE-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING ARROGANT? IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME-"

"Please, both of you, stop!"

The arguing nations immediately drop the topic, both looking a bit embarrassed, although China's anger is still visible.

"America-san, why are you here?" Japan repeats his earlier question.

"I... uh..." America is suddenly sheepish, scratching his head as his cheeks redden a bit in embarrassment.

China narrows his eyes. "Just spit it out, America, aru."

"I... IcametoapologizepleaseforgivemeI'mreallyreallysorr yIdidn'tknowitwouldhurtyousomuch! Sosorry!"

The Asian nations blink in confusion.

"Uh... I didn't quite catch that, America-san..."

"I..." America takes a deep breath. "I came to apologize. I'm really sorry, Japan, for what my country did to yours."

Japan blinks again, surprised that they young nation would apologize. He had been expecting America to lord it over him, not apologize. America continues.

"I know you probably can't forgive me, but-"

"I can forgive you."

America lapses into silence. "What?"

"I can forgive you, America. But, it will take some time. It is not your fault, after all." Japan looks up at the younger nation. "Though we as nations represent our entire country, we cannot control what our people do. Yours did what they thought was right, and... and it just happened that mine suffered for it. But they - no, _we - _are only human, after all. We all make mistakes. You are still so very young, America. For your sake, I hope that this is your worst mistake."

Japan turns away, and China shoos America away. "Go home, America. Do not make this any worse than it is, aru."

America merely nods, and walks away.

"I hope... Someday, perhaps, we will be friends again..."

* * *

**_- That night, Japan's home_**** -**

China carries a tray of tea out to the porch, where Japan sits. The younger nation, fresh out of the bath, is wearing his favorite yukata. China, too, is out of uniform, and wears his mandarin jacket and a pair of loose pants. He sets the tray on the ground and sits next to Japan, letting his legs dangle over the edge.

For a few minutes, they just sit there, sipping their tea.

Finally, China sighs. "I remember when we used to do this, aru. Times have changed, haven't they, Japan?"

"Yes..." He laughed softly. "I was right, wasn't I, China-san? The western powers did come, and now they are changing us..."

China laughs a little too. "I guess you _were_ right, aru. By the way, what will you do now?"

"Well, get stronger, I suppose. Become an influential country in this new world order. Make friends with America-san. Spread my culture. There's so much to do... I have to rebuild first, though."

"Yes..." China gazes up at the moon, as full as it was on that night over 50 years ago. "No matter how much we change, Japan, I'm always here for you, aru."

Japan smiles. "Nii-san... Shall we weave our history for another thousand years?"

"Yes, aru. Even though we are different, let us always gaze at the same moon."

And in that moment, they weren't nations, and they didn't have the weight of their countries resting on their shoulders.

They were simply brothers.

Family.

And they were at peace.

* * *

終

* * *

**Author's Note:** I tried to capture the character's emotions, I don't think I did very well, though...

**Translations:**

Gomennasai - I'm sorry. Japan actually said "Gomen" in the strip, which roughly means dismissal/pardon me (as in forgive me), but I thought gomennasai sounds better...

Chuugoku - China

Zongzi - a type of Chinese food made of glutinous rice and various stuffings wrapped in bamboo leaves. It's really yummy. If you want to see pictures, just Google "粽子"

Wakare - farewell

_li _- a type of traditional measuring system in China. Japan uses _ri_, which _could_ be romanized as _li_, so... pretend it's both.

Watashi wa wasurenai - I won't forget (something like that. I think it's not in past tense, but I'm not sure how to write it in present tense in English... I am not forgetting?)

Zài jiàn - goodbye (literally, "see again". China is more hopeful than Japan. Or rather, he knows they'll meet again... That's not necessarily a good thing...)

終 - end. In both Traditional Chinese characters and Japanese kanji. Isn't it wonderful when two languages share a system of writing, and the words mean the _exact same thing_?

Anyways... HISTORY TIME!

**Historical Notes:** (you can skip these if you want, its just some random history)

On the first Sino-Japanese war:

The first Sino-Japanese war started in August of 1894 and lasted until April 1895. It was fought over control of Korea. Poor Korea. The funny thing is, neither Japan nor China calls it the First Sino-Japanese war. Japan calls it the Japan-Qing War (as in Qing dynasty, which was in power at the time) and China calls it the War of Jiawu (Jiawu refers to the year, based on a traditional calendar system. The Japanese won. I couldn't find any info on where they actually signed the surrender or ceasefire or whatever actually ended the war, so I put them on a ship somewhere in the East China Sea, since it's between China and Japan.

On the second Sino-Japanese war (WWII):

The second Sino-Japanese war officially started in July of 1937, but Japan and China had already been fighting on and off since 1931. Hence China being prepared for Japan's attack. The war was fought over Japan's imperialistic interest in taking over China, particularly China's resources. Again, neither country calls it the second Sino-Japanese war. China calls it the War of Resistance against Japan, while Japan merely calls it the Japan-China War (simple enough). In 1941, after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the war was merged into WWII.

(NOTE: This was all done by the western powers. I know China does not consider the war part of WWII, and I don't think Japan intended it to be, either. Stupid western powers, thinking they can just randomly rename and re-categorize Asian wars... :) OK, I'll stop now...)

Anyways, Germany and Italy were actually good friends with China during the beginning of the war. China actually sent a diplomat to Germany to ask to join the Axis powers, saying that Japan was weaker, and that Germany would benefit more from an alliance with China. (I wonder what would have happened had that gone through...) Germany had provided a lot of economic support for China's military, and also trained it. Italy was just kinda... there. I'm not exactly sure what they did...

Even though China was technically the first of the Allies to fight against an Axis country, it didn't join the Allies until 1941, (again) after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. (Japan _really_ shouldn't have done that...)

The USA was actually planning to send assistance to China before their official involvement in WWII as a result of (you guessed it) the bombing of Pearl Harbor, but they didn't actually send the assistance until after.

On the end of WWII and the surrender of Japan:

The end of the second Sino-Japanese war, and WWII, was when the USA dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in early August of 1945 (but you knew that already). What most people don't know is that that wasn't the only reason. Another factor in Japan's surrender was the fact that the Soviet Union invaded Japanese occupied Manchuria, and Japan really didn't want to deal with them after getting hit by two atomic weapons. Japan surrendered just a week after the bombings, but the official Instrument of Surrender (it's actually called that) wasn't signed until September. The signing actually took place on the USS _Missouri, _which was stationed in Tokyo Bay at the time.

**Author's Note (continued):** The other stuff, like Japan collapsing and China taking care of him, has no historical basis. In fact, I'm positive that China was not in a help-Japan-out mood after WWII. It's also untrue that America apologized. I think all they actually said was that it was war, and they did what they had to, and blah blah blah. Politics. Urgh.

Wow, this end note thing is really long... It's, like, 900 words... Anyways...

If you can figure out where I got the lines written on the piece of paper Japan and China pass back and forth, I'll give you a virtual cookie! (::) - see, it's right here!


	2. England and America

Author's Note: I've decided to expand this into a series of oneshots! This time, it's about England and America. Guess which war? :P

I've changed some of the lines that the characters say to make it flow better. Please don't yell at me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Though I have shamelessly drawn from it for the beginning and end of this.

* * *

**_- October 1781, Yorktown, Virginia -_**

"England."

The rain falls, drenching the fields as the two face each other. Their weapons are raised, ready to fire. Determination is on both their faces. They are enemies.

They are brothers.

"All I want is freedom. I'm no longer a child, or your little brother. From now on, I'll be independent of you." America's voice is full of passion, far from its normal cheerful tone. He steadies his aim.

England's eyes are full of pain, but it quickly changes to determination. He charges at America. "I won't allow it!"

Metal strikes wood, and America's gun flies out of his grasp. The young nation's eyes widen at the bayonet inches from his face.

"You never follow things through to the end, you idiot!"

Behind America, his soldiers raise their weapons and prepare to fire, but neither nation notices. Everything is frozen, except for the rain, gently drumming against the muddy ground, soaking the world in sorrow.

America's eyes are fixed on the sharp blade in front of him. Then, suddenly, it lowers. Sky blue eyes rise to meet vivid green ones through the veil of falling water.

"There's no way I could shoot you, you idiot."

A soft splash, and England's weapon is lying on the ground. The nation falls to his knees, his face in his hands, sobbing.

"Why did it come to this?"

* * *

**_- April 1775, Massachusetts Colony -_**

The sun rose steadily over the fields of Massachusetts Colony. Its golden rays slowly breathed life into the air, gently touching and illuminating all. The breeze blew lightly, the birds sang.

It was a beautiful spring morning.

One that would change the course of history.

The two sides faced each other, tensions growing. Chaos reigned as people, angry and embittered, ignored the orders of their commanders.

No one could say who fired the first shot.

But once it was released, there was no turning back.

* * *

**_- Summer 1775, Boston, Massachusetts -_**

"You idiot, America! By surrounding Boston, you're only going to make me angrier at you! Stop this foolishness at once!"

"No, England! My people have had enough of your oppression! I will not back down!"

The two stand just outside the city limits, where the colonial militia had Boston under siege. England's face displays the anger of the British Empire, but America does not flinch away. The colony is determined to fight against his caretaker.

"When have I ever oppressed you? You are the most free of all my colonies!"

"Do you think I care, England? Just because I am the most free, does not mean I am free at all! Look at what you are doing! You station troops in my cities, just because some of my citizens do not agree with your taxes!"

"Your citizens do not merely _disagree_, America, they disturb the order! This is the only way to maintain control, America. If you were older, you would understand!"

"No, England." America's voice is deadly quiet. "I will never understand."

"Then I will have to show you." England's tone is full of venom. "I'm sorry, America, but this means war."

"Then I will fight it." America turns and walks away, leaving England alone.

A single tear slides down the empire's cheek.

_What happened to the innocent child that was once my little brother? America, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking your innocence away..._

* * *

**_- Same Time Frame, Outskirts of Boston -_**

It was to become the first major battle of the war.

England joins his army as they advance toward the colonial lines. Above him, the sky is a peculiar shade of grey, as smoke billows from the burning town behind his people. Bullets rain down on them as the Americans fight with surprising ferocity against the oncoming British.

A flash blue darts out from behind a building.

England raises his musket, and fires.

America shelters behind a building, pausing to catch his breath. He closes his eyes, seeing the advancing British troops in his mind. There were so many! But he is confident in his people's abilities. After a brief rest, he runs out from his hiding place.

A gun sounds, almost blending in with the cacophony of battle sounds.

A bullet grazes his cheek.

Startled, America turned, looking in the direction of the gunshot. His eyes search the lines, not knowing until they find their target what they are looking for.

A pair of brilliant green eyes, previously narrowed in anger, widen in shock.

England stares at the shining blue eyes of his colony. America. The wound on his cheek bleeds lightly, accentuating the startled look on his face. It makes America look so young, so vulnerable. But the expression quickly dies away as the colony realizes who had shot at him. Anger clouds his features, and he raises his gun to retaliate.

But the bullet misses, flying past England's head. The older nation frowns, and says something. America can't hear him, but he knows what was said.

"Is this what you really want, America?"

America turns his back on his guardian, but not before giving an answer. "Yes."

After heavy losses, the British would eventually win the battle, but England does not feel the joy he expects. He can only gaze in the direction of the Americans' retreat and wonder.

_Is this really the only way?_

* * *

**_- July 1776, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania -_**

America stands just inside the door of the room, watching the proceedings quietly.

It had been easy to get out of the house that morning; after all, England was preoccupied with trying to stop the rebellion. No one had asked any questions as he left. No one was home to ask questions.

America watches proudly as the representatives of each of his colonies - no, they were states now - approve of the Declaration of Independence.

No longer would he be under the rule of Great Britain. No longer would his people have to suffer the tyrannical demands of the king. He is happy.

He _is._

He does not regret declaring his independence, right? _No, that's not true. I have one regret. Only one._

His only regret is that he will have to sever ties with his family.

_England__... Canada... I'm sorry..._

* * *

**_- December 1776, Trenton, New Jersey -_**

America stands on the banks of the Delaware River, helping his people prepare to sneak across in the dead of night. He barely notices the cold.

Morale is low among the American revolutionaries, and America despairs for the future of his country. If he doesn't do something now, he fears that the revolution will be squashed, and that things will become worse for his people.

Apparently, his leaders thought the same, and that was why they are there now, standing on the banks of the half-frozen Delaware.

As the final preparations are made, the men begin to get into the boats.

_This is it_, America thinks. _If this doesn't work... _

The crossing is rough, but not unbearably so. They manage to make it over fine. All is quiet as they sneak nearer to the British encampment.

Silently, the American forces move into position.

As light finally breaks over the horizon, the entire camp is surrounded, and captured. Not one of America's people died during the attack. The victory had done its job, boosting the morale of the American forces.

But America himself is not happy. Sure, he is relieved that the war effort was not in vain, that the rebellion would not be stopped so quickly, but...

Every battle won is one step closer to a final confrontation. And America knows exactly what a final confrontation will mean.

* * *

**_- Autumn 1777, Saratoga, New York -_**

America steadies his aim on a barrel and shoots. All around him, his people are fighting to keep their homeland together.

He reloads, then shifts to a better position. He takes aim again, but before he can fire, something catches his eye.

He turns. There, fighting beside his soldiers, his red uniform smeared with dirt and dust, stands England.

_Every time, you show up! Why can't you just go back to Europe!_ America silently rants. He doesn't want to fight against his older brother. It hurts to see him standing there, dressed in the red of the enemy.

For the rest of the battle, he tries to ignore the nation on the other side of the battlefield. He won't shoot him, no, that would be unforgivable. But he doesn't say anything to his people, doesn't prevent them from shooting his brother.

He fights almost mechanically, not really caring if his shots hit or miss their targets. Aim, fire, reload, repeat. He has to shut off his emotions, or else he would surrender then and there. He doesn't want to fight against his caretaker anymore, yet he must, for he is his people, and that is what his people want.

_Is this what being a nation means?_

* * *

**_- A few weeks later, Same location -_**

After many weeks of maneuvering and fighting, the battle is finally over. England stands with his general as they prepare to surrender to the American forces.

Outwardly, England is calm, his face betraying no emotions.

Inside, he is in turmoil. Already, the rebellion had been going on for longer than he thought possible. How had America, his little colony, managed to fight against him, the British Empire, the largest and strongest in the world, and win? He would never have thought it could happen, and yet... it had happened.

The British entourage approach the Americans carefully, but they show no sign of stopping them. As they reach the American general's tent, England stiffens.

Waiting next to the doorway is America.

They lock eyes, but neither displays their feelings. Their faces stay frozen in a mask of calm, but each can see what the other is feeling.

England sees reluctance, and pain. Suffering, and regret. But also determination, and the passion to break away from England.

America sees hurt, and anger. Loss, and betrayal. But also acceptance, and the drive to do whatever it takes to keep America.

Not a word passes between the two during the entire meeting. The only time they speak is when tradition dictates that they must.

Only after the meeting, when England is leaving, does America grab his arm.

"England-"

"Let go, America." England's voice is like ice. He stops moving, but doesn't turn to face America.

"England, I-" America is once again interrupted by his mentor.

"I said, let go."

"I just want to talk-"

"I have nothing to say to you." England's voice is deathly quiet, and America finally drops his arm.

"Fine. Be like that, England. I just wanted to say sorry."

"Do not lie, America. You are not sorry." And with that, England walks away.

He does not hear America whisper, "But I really am..."

No one does. Not even America.

* * *

_**- Winter and Spring 1777-1778, Valley Forge, Pennsylvania -**  
_

America can only watch as slowly, his army dies from cold, hunger, and disease. There were almost no supplies, and the men were poorly outfitted for the harsh winter.

America frowns. As a nation, he is not affected as much by the horrible conditions, but he can still feel the misery of living in the camp. He had never thought that a winter could do so much damage to the war effort. He watches as despair spreads through the ranks, and many give up hope.

So it is a welcome relief from the monotony of winter when, one day, a foreign envoy marches into the camp.

"THE AWESOME ME HAS COME TO ASSIST YOU!"

America, startled, jumps up at the noise. He peers out at the men standing just outside his army's camp.

Two men lead the group. One, America would soon learn, is the Baron Friedrich von Steuben. The other is the nation of Prussia, or, as he likes to call himself, THE AWESOME PRUSSIA.

"What are you doing here, Prussia?" America asks warily. He had been warned numerous times about the strange Germanic nation, both by England and by the various other Europeans whose people had settled in his lands.

"To help you, of course! Did you not hear me the first time?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Good! Now, show us what you've got!"

America has no choice but to comply. He quickly gathers up his men, and the Prussians run them through a series of drills, which immediately show their lack of skill in all but the most basic things.

Prussia shakes his head in disappointment. "You call this an army? Luckily you have the awesome me here! We'll have to fix this if you're going to have any chance of winning against England!"

And that is exactly what they did. By the end of spring, the revolutionary army is well trained enough to confidently take on the British army.

"Thanks, Prussia."

"Hey, no problem, kid. Always happy to make people awesomer!"

* * *

**_- 1778-1779, Spain-_**

America frowns. He does not want to be in Europe, attending boring meetings. He wants to be on the battlefield, with his people, fighting for his freedom. But his leaders had insisted, and here he is.

He had already met with France and had secured an alliance with the older nation. Now, he is with Spain.

"America! Here, have a tomato!"

Upon entering the room, America is immediately assaulted by an overenthusiastic Spain, waving around a basket of tomatoes. A grumbling Romano follows at a distance, cursing quietly under his breath.

"Uh... Thanks, Spain! But, my leaders really will get mad at me if I just socialize..."

"Ohonhonhon..." France suddenly pops out of nowhere. "Espagne will agree to fighting Angleterre, non?"

"Sí! After all, Inglaterra took my precious Florida away from me after I sided with you." Spain's cheerful demeanor suddenly turns much darker, even though his smile remains in place. "Francia, you had better help me get Florida back!"

France shudders a little, and Romano backs away slightly. Both look around to make sure that there were no axes nearby that Spain could get his hands on. But America, oblivious to the fact that Spain was channeling his inner Russia (he had never met Russia, after all) just smiled.

"Of course he will! Right, France?"

"O-Oui, Amerique," the nation responds, glancing nervously at his friend.

Spain suddenly reverts back to his normal self. "Great! Come, Romano, let's get our guests some tomatoes!"

Dragging the southern half of Italy along behind him, the older nation rushes out of the room, apparently forgetting that there was a basket of tomatoes on the table.

After they return, Romano pulls America away as the two European powers begin to talk in earnest about the technicalities of the alliance.

Later, as they gather for a final farewell before America returns home, the young nation turns to France.

"Thanks for helping me out, France!"

"It is no problem, Amerique. After all, any chance I can get to beat Angleterre is much appreciated."

"Sí! After all, he took my precious Florida!" As a menacing aura begins to surround Spain again, France quickly pushes America away.

"Well, go home now, Amerique! We will send help along soon!"

America nods. "Will do! Thanks again!"

He left happily, oblivious to France and Romano's desperate attempts to calm Spain down as he whips out his battle axe and proceed to destroy things.

* * *

**_- Spring 1780, Charleston, South Carolina -_**

_This is bad, this is bad, this is bad... _America silently freaks out as British troops seize Charleston. _No, no, no! It was going so well! What went wrong?_

But America could not dispute the choice. If they didn't surrender, the siege would have gone on for longer, and who knows what might have happened?

He stands beside his general as the British come to accept their surrender. This time, he knows England will be there, and avoids looking any of the British officers in the face. He only speaks when prompted. Otherwise, he is quiet and his gaze is fixed on a spot on the wall.

Finally, it is over. America breathes a sigh of relief as the British officers leave. His own general, too, stands up and, nodding to the nation, moves out of the room.

"Ugh... That was torture!" America plops down in a chair, frowning. "Stupid British forces... And it was going so well, too! I haven't suffered such a defeat ever! Why am I not strong enough to repel them?"

"You are young, America."

America whirls around at the unexpected voice. Standing in the doorway is England.

"What are you doing here, England?" The young nation's eyes are narrowed as he hisses out the question. "Shouldn't you be, oh, I don't know, celebrating your victory? Or maybe that's what you're here for, to taunt me?"

"America, there is no need for hostility-"

"No need for hostility?! What do you think this is, a tea party?" America seethes angrily.

"I seem to remember you starting a very hostile 'tea party' a few years ago," England comments dryly, sitting down in one of the other chairs.

"That's beside the point! I don't want to talk to you, England! Why don't you just go and do whatever it is your people are doing right now!"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were all right." England speaks so quietly, America isn't sure he heard right.

"...What?"

"I was right to worry, wasn't I?" England says, ignoring the question. "You're tearing yourself apart, America. Don't worry so much about it."

"Don't worry so much about it? England, this is my worst defeat to date, and you're telling me not to worry?" America's voice slowly climbs in pitch until he is practically screaming.

"No, I'm not saying don't worry. I'm saying don't tear yourself up over it." England gets up, squatting before the younger nation. "Things are different for you, here in the New World. When I was growing..."

Here, his voice falters a bit, but he takes a breath and keeps going. "Back in Europe, we had so much violence. You cannot imagine what it was like, America. You may think that this war is bad, but when I, when all of us Europeans, actually, were younger... Things were different back then. Things are still different. America, you grew up with your only neighbors being your brother Canada and Spain's colony, Mexico. You've never had a reason to fight. You've never really experienced bloodshed up until now, and I know that it's a shock for you. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you've never really experienced war."

"What are you telling me, England? That I should give up? That I should just sit back and let you control me, just because I don't know anything about war?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying! Although it would be much appreciated if you did... America, listen. I'm just trying to keep you from going insane at the strain! You may not have had to fight anyone, but you also do not have anyone to confide in, to share what you are going through. Nations support one another, America. Though our countries are sometimes at war, and we as nations are sometime enemies, we are still tied together by the fact that we are all just people. I'm merely looking out for your safety, America. As a person, not a nation."

"I don't need your help, England." America stands up and goes to the door, pausing just as he opens the door. "Just leave."

And then he is gone.

* * *

_**- Autumn 1783, France -**  
_

The treaty is finally signed.

America feels pride in his people, and happiness. Finally, after years of fighting, he is free.

He is a nation now.

And nothing will stop him.

He senses someone coming up to him, and turns. There, standing next to him, is England. The older nation does not look at the younger one, instead staring out the window.

After a minute of silence, he speaks. "Congratulations, America. I wish you luck in the future."

"England..." England finally turns, and is surprised to see America's pained expression. An expression that mirrors his own.

He gestures to the window. "It's raining."

America nods. "Yes..."

Without a word, they watch as the world is drenched in rain.

* * *

**_- October 1781, Yorktown, Virginia -_**

The rain falls steadily, washing away the tears on England's face as he sobs.

"Why did it come to this?"

America's expression is full of sadness.

"England..."

* * *

**_- Sometime in the 1600's -_**

"Let's go home."

The child slowly lifts his gaze to see a man, the sun behind him, holding out his hand. The wind rustles through the grasses, blowing the man's coat and ruffling his hair.

The child smiles radiantly, his beautiful blue eyes closing in joy.

"Okay!"

A small hand reaches up, grabbing hold of the larger one.

And the sun shines down.

* * *

**_- October 1781, Yorktown, Virginia -_**

The man on the ground does not answer to his name, his sobs shaking his body. The teenager standing above him looks down in sadness.

He remembers when this man was strong.

"You were so great once..."

And the rain falls.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew! That was much harder to write than China and Japan, for some strange reason... Stupid Revolutionary War...

So, anyways... Some history!

**Historical Notes:** (you can skip this if you don't want a history lecture)

The American Revolutionary War officially started on April 19th, 1775 with the battle of Lexington and Concord. The British army received intelligence that the colonists were stockpiling military supplies in Concord, Massachusetts, so they went to seize them. The colonists heard about it, and went to defend them. Each side was ordered not to fire, but someone did, and BOOM! Revolutionary War.

After that, the Americans basically placed Boston, where the British were staying, under siege. This was when the Battle of Bunker Hill, the first major battle in the war, occurred. The battle was named after Bunker Hill, which was the objective of both sides to capture, but in reality, they fought on Breed's Hill, which was nearby. They really need to name things more accurately...

The Declaration of Independence was adopted on July 4th, 1776. Funny thing is, they actually voted to declare independence on the 2nd of July, and the actual signing did not take place until the 2nd of August. Politics... Even in the 18th century, they were hard to understand...

The Battle of Trenton was one of the most famous battles of the American Revolutionary War. Ever seen that painting of Washington crossing the Delaware? Yeah, that's this battle. If you haven't seen it, I suggest you look it up. It's pretty (or at least I think it is. I'm not an art authority, though...). Although a bit inaccurate, since it wasn't dawn yet when they crossed, and the weather was bad... Anyways, no Americans died in the actual battle (although a few died of exposure, since it was cold), and it was a huge morale booster for the American forces, which basically had no morale at that point.

The Battles of Saratoga are considered the turning point in the Revolution. Basically, the two sides fought, and the Americans won, causing the British to surrender a rather large company of men. Also, it was this battle (well, technically these battles, since there were two, but most just regard them as one battle) that helped/persuaded other countries (France, Spain) decide to help the Americans out.

Valley Forge is also a really famous event in the war. The Americans were poorly equipped for the cold winter, so they basically froze and starved. It was also during this event (? not sure what to call it...) that Baron Friedrich von Steuben, a Prussian (YEAH PRUSSIA!) officer, came to America and helped to train the men. If I remember my US history correctly (sorry if I got this wrong, last time I learned about the Revolutionary War was in 5th grade!), this was a big help as the Americans really had no military skill.

France and Spain officially entered the war against Britain in 1778 and 1779, respectively. I'm not sure about their motivations, but from what I've read, they basically wanted to get revenge on Britain for something or the other (like Florida). NOW I KNOW WHY AMERICA WON! IT'S BECAUSE THE BAD TOUCH TRIO HELPED! *fangirl moment*

...Yeah. Anyhow, the siege of Charleston was the worst American defeat in the war. The Americans had to surrender a large amount of men, just like the British did at Saratoga.

The last major battle of the American Revolution was the Siege of Yorktown. Needless to say, the Americans won. After that, there were only minor skirmishes on the North American continent, and some battles out at sea and in the Caribbean. The thing is, this battle was in 1781, and the war didn't officially end until 1783. Strange...

The Treaty of Paris was signed September 3rd, 1783, and brought the American Revolution to a close. The result was that the United States of America officially became a nation. Yay! Or not, if you look at it from England's point of view.

**Author's Note (continued):** I decided to place the scene with America and England during the Siege of Yorktown, since it was the last major battle of the war, and therefore it would make sense for England to be defeated then. Poor, poor, England... At least you still had Canada... at that point in time...

Also, this is really random, but have you noticed that each of the Bad Touch Trio has a signature laugh? France has his ohonhonhon, Prussia has his kesesese, and Spain has his fusososo... And apparently, they have their own Marukaite Chikyuu too! GO BTT!

So, I hope you guys liked it! Also, if you have any suggestions for wars between countries who are family, then please tell me! I'm kinda out of ideas...

Now excuse me while I go research the War of 1812. I know next to nothing about it, except for the burnings of Washington and York...

Stupid War of 1812...


	3. America and Canada

Author's Note: So, I've noticed that most of the fics about the War of 1812 are on the burning of Washington. What's up with that? I've never seen a single story about the burning of York, even though it is often depicted in the fandom as the cause of the burning of Washington (although it was kind of the entire "oh, let's invade Canada!" thing, which pissed off Britain, of which York was just a part, though a slightly more significant part than all the others), so I just... eh, I dunno. Stupid War of 1812. Enjoy the story, I guess...

Oh, so since this is mostly going to be about interactions between America and Canada, I'm only going to focus on the Canadian/Great Lakes front of the war. There was fighting in other places (as this was actually a war between the US and Great Britain, of which Canada was still a colony), but none of it would fit into the storyline, so yeah. Just know that there was also fighting going on in the Atlantic Ocean and in the southern parts of the United States (near the Gulf of Mexico).

Stupid War of 1812...

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. (Is this disclaimer really necessary?)

* * *

_**- July, 1812, on the border between Michigan Territory and Upper Canada -**_

Canada and America stand facing each other, America's eyes narrowed in anger and determination, Canada's wide with shock and confusion.

"W-What?"

"I said, surrender, Canada!" America points his gun at his twin.

"A-America, what are you talking about?" Canada stutters, backing away slightly.

"The _war_, Canada. So just surrender, and my people won't do anything to yours!"

"What? B-But... the American Revolutionary War ended ages ago!"

"Not that war! The new one, the one my Congress just declared on Britain!"

"America, you declared war on Britain? Why?" Canada asks, confused.

"Because he's being a stupid idiot and trying to control me again, that's why!" America exclaims.

"What? What do you mean?"

"He's trying to force my people to fight for him and control my trade with France because of some stupid European war that they're in right now! Why can't he remember that I'm not his colony anymore?"

"And that gives you a reason to invade _my_ lands, and order me to surrender?" Canada finally starts to lose his cool. "Do you forget that I was raised by _both_ France and England? How do you think I feel?"

"I don't know!" America cries, throwing his arms in the air. "Why are you being so stubborn, Canada? Can't you just come with me?"

"No." Canada raises his own gun in America's moment of distraction. "Why can't you just leave me in peace, America? Why do you have to put us through this again?"

"Please!" America's voice turns pleading. "Please join me?"

"No! Don't you remember last time?"

* * *

_**- Late Summer, 1775, on the border between Quebec and New York -**_

"Canada!"

Canada turned to see America charging up the path toward him.

"Yes, America? What are you doing here? I thought you were fighting England?"

"Great news, brother! My government has decided that you should join us in the war against England!"

"What? Why would I do that? I'm his colony!" Canada said, confused.

"So was I, and it didn't stop me. Plus, France is on my side, and he was your former caretaker, right?"

"But... I can't betray England!"

"Please, Canada! Please join me!" America grabbed Canada's arm, tugging in an attempt to get his brother to go with him.

"Stop it, America! I'm not going with you, and that's final!" Canada shook off America's hand and stormed off.

Shocked, America rushed to follow. "But Canada-"

"I said no!" Canada whirled around to face his brother. "Just go away, and stop bothering me! Just because you're not loyal to England doesn't mean I'm going to be as well!"

America's expression hardened. "Fine, then. If that's how you're going to be, then I will find a way to force you to join me!"

Canada laughed bitterly. "I'd like to see you try."

* * *

_**- Winter, 1775-1776, Quebec City -**_

America tried. He tried as hard as he could. He invaded his brother's land, seized Montreal, and was now in Quebec. But that is where he failed.

"I told you, America! I told you to leave me alone! Why can't you listen, for once? Why can't you just stay where you belong?"

"I have to do this, Canada! It's for the good of my people! And it could be for the good of yours, too, if you would just listen, and join me!"

"For the good of your people? It is for the good of your people to suffer through temperatures below freezing in a harsh Canadian winter laying siege to a town that has enough supplies to last until long after the British get here with reinforcements? Surely you do not believe that! Surely you don't want this for your people!"

America gritted his teeth. "This is what my leaders told me to do! This is what they want! Who am I to say differently?"

Canada snorted. "So? _You_ can choose, America. _You_ can choose what you want. There are many sides of you, many sides _in_ you, America, the ones who want to be free of England's 'oppressive' rule, those that don't, and those that don't know what to think. Why can't you pick one?"

"You don't understand, Canada." America's voice drops to a deathly quiet volume. "You've never had this... this feeling of intense hate for one you love. You've never been torn apart like this."

"No? How do you think I felt when France gave me up for that tiny colony he called Guadeloupe? How do you think I felt when British culture started to overtake my French roots? How do you think I feel now, my twin betraying my caretaker, who I am loyal to, who I love as my dearest brother? Don't say that I don't understand, America!" Canada cried, lashing out at his brother. His voice, too, dropped down until he was just whispering. "You're the one that doesn't understand."

He gestured around at the city of Quebec, its people still continuing on their daily business despite being under siege. "This, America, this is me. Though I have been torn apart man times, though I have been betrayed by my family, I am content. And that," Canada motioned toward the miserable looking Americans outside the walls, "that is you. Why can you not be content as well?"

America shook his head. "No, Canada. I will never be content, not until I gain the freedom that my people want."

"Then go. Go earn your 'freedom'. Just leave me out of it!" Canada turned away from his twin with finality. "I don't want to see you again."

America watched as his brother walked away, as the city gates closed behind him with a final thump that echoed hollowly within his ears. Then he, too turned his back on his brother and left their shared childhood behind.

They would not see each other again for more than 30 years.

* * *

_**- July, 1812, on the border between Michigan Territory and Upper Canada -**_

"Don't you remember last time?"

America's eyes narrow. "This time, it won't be the same."

Canada smirks. "Oh really, now?"

A gunshot rings out.

A rifle falls.

Blood spatters across a uniform.

Two sets of eyes widen.

Blue meets purple.

And the blue falls.

"Désolé, America."

Canada walks away, leaving his twin clutching his shoulder, blood spurting out from under his hand, staining his blue uniform red.

* * *

_**- August, 1812, Detroit, Michigan Territory -**_

"Canada..."

"America."

America's voice is full of pleading, and pain, and betrayal. His sky blue eyes, so clear once, so full of hope and dreams, are clouded with a sorrow he has never felt before.

But Canada's voice is detached of all emotion. His face is set in a mask of calm, his mouth pressed into a determined line, his once soft purple gaze now strong and unrelenting.

They pause to take in each other's appearance. America's shoulder is still bandaged from the bullet wound Canada had given him. He looks disheveled, his hair messier than usual, his coat hanging open at an odd angle.

Canada, on the other hand, is completely composed. It was so easy, almost too easy, to push the Americans back from his country. He wonders idly if something is not right, but dismisses the thought.

"Is this what you wanted, America?"

"I..."

"Because I, too, will now listen to my leaders. They are not going to hold back. And neither will I."

"Canada..."

"What's wrong, America? Can't take having your twin betray you?" Canada taunted. "But that's what you did to me, was it not?"

"Canada... I'm sorry..." America lowers his gaze to the ground

"I was too, America. I was too." Canada looks away from his brother, towards the sky that is filled with flying artillery as the battle continues. "But now... I don't know anymore."

He takes a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. "How do you do it, America? How do you let yourself go so completely to the will of your people?"

America looks up. "I don't. I never have."

"Then... you truly want this?" Canada meets his brother's gaze again.

"No... No, I don't want _this_, but... if I believe, if I can just trust that my actions are for the good of my people, then I will do anything. I love my family, Canada, but without my people, I am nothing."

A particularly large explosion rips through the land, and America stumbles, and falls. "Ah... I think they're giving in now."

Canada reaches down to assist his brother, but the newly formed nation waves him off. "No. Go do what you have to, and I'll do what I have to. See you on the battlefield, brother." America gives him a pained smile.

Canada swallows, and nods. Then he leaves to accept the surrender of the American fort-city of Detroit.

* * *

_**- Late Autumn, 1812, Niagara River -**_

"It's come to this again. Why, brother?"

The voice behind him makes the nation turn. He frowns. "I could ask the same of you. Why do we do anything? Why do we have to fight? It's just the way the world -our world- is."

"Couldn't you have just let the peace stay? Couldn't you have let our bond, however tenuous, remain unbroken?"

"The armistice was always meant to be temporary," he says dismissively.

"All that is permanent started from the temporary," his brother counters. "That's how we started, is it not? Those first explorers who discovered our lands, they were the temporary, and after them came the colonists, here to stay forever."

"Not forever, brother. Nothing can last forever."

"But we can try."

"I do not want to try."

"Is that why you invaded again? Do you want us to remain enemies forever?" The young nation tilts his head to the side, his tone calm and uncaring, almost conversational, despite the question he asks.

"As I said, nothing lasts forever."

"But we can try."

He moves to leave, but turns back, a smile on his face. "Oh, and congratulations on your failure, _brother mine_."

The other nation is frozen as his twin walks away. He does not see his twin's smile fall.

He does not see the tears forming in his brother's eyes.

He does not see his mouth forming the words "Revenez à moi."

America only sees Canada's slowly disappearing form, and the red of the falling maple leaves around them.

* * *

_**- January, 1813, Frenchtown, Michigan Territory -**_

"WHY? Why, Canada, why? How could you, they had already surrendered! How could you just kill your prisoners of war? Have you no mercy?" America screams at his brother, tears streaming down his face.

"That wasn't me! I swear, I would never do something like that!" Canada is also crying, though not for the same reasons America was. The southern twin cries for his people. The northern cries because his brother doesn't believe him.

"Wasn't you? Who else could it have been? You just KILLED them! How could you? How could you..." In his despair, America slides to the ground, sobbing.

"I'm sorry America, I didn't leave enough people to guard them, and the natives..." Canada says, trying to explain. But America doesn't want to hear his explanation, and lashes out towards his brother.

"SHUT UP!"

This causes Canada to snap. "YOU SHUT UP! Do you know what you did to me, last time you tried to invade? YOU KILLED ONE OF MY IMPORTANT LEADERS! But do you see me breaking down to bits because of it? NO! So don't try to blame me!"

He stormed off, leaving America sobbing in the snow.

* * *

**_- April, 1813, York, Upper Canada -_**

"AMERICA!"

The nation does not acknowledge his name. Instead, he watches silently as the fire flickers and grows, licking its way up the sides of buildings, chewing its way through roofs, eating away their foundations, burning without mercy.

"AMERICA!"

The call comes again, but the nation does not turn his sky blue eyes from the red orange rage of the fire in front of him. He hears the seemingly ceaseless crackling of the inferno, filling the air with cries of fear as it rains down upon the people.

"AMERICA!"

He can feel the heat of the fire, washing over the land, consuming everything in its reach, lending its energy to create light that seemed alive, growing, overcoming...

"America..."

The whispered word finally penetrates his mind, and he feels a hand on his arm. He looks down, into purple eyes filled with pain: pain of loss, pain of sorrow, pain of hatred, pain from wounds, pain from the people... and the worst. The pain of betrayal.

That gaze holds so much within it. Questions (Why? Why did you do this?), accusations (How could you, America?), exclamations (I hate you!), pleas (S-Stop! Please, brother, stop it!), pain (It hurts... Why does it hurt so much?).

The nation longs to comfort his brother, but he cannot. He was the one who caused this pain, this suffering. How could he hope to comfort his twin?

Tears gather in his eyes, reflecting the orange of the fire to contrast eerily with the pure blue. He does not see the same happening in his brother's eyes, the orange contrasting sharply with the purple, yet somehow fitting with it as well. He turns his head to the side, shame clouding his mind.

"Canada..."

* * *

**_- September, 1813, Lake Erie -_**

Neither nation fights in the battle upon Lake Erie. Water is their brother, England's, forte, not their own. But nonetheless, they are there to see, as they had seen all of their battles.

It seems so much cleaner, the battle between ships, from their vantage points on the land. The maneuvering, the shots, the sound of wood splintering... But no blood.

At least, none visible to their eyes.

But in their hearts, they know the pain of the battle. After all, it _is_ their people out there, dying. It is their future that the war is determining.

In the end, America wins, but not without a price. He feels so much more pain that Canada, or even England. After all, those on the water were partially Canadian and British, but the Americans were all American. They were all America's people.

Both twins turn away from the scene, sadly. They can feel the rift between them growing larger, wider, more unrepairable.

Both fear that there is no chance for a return to what was before.

* * *

**_- August, 1814, Washington, D.C. -_**

"C-Canada?"

_Burn. Let it all burn down,_ he thinks. The light from the flames reflects in his eyes, perfectly mirroring their path up, down, over... _Burn..._

"Canada?"

_Brighter. Faster. More. MORE._ The flames seem to obey his silent commands, writhing higher and higher, converting wood into ashes and heat and light, spewing plumes of smoke into the sky, choking those who got too close.

"Canada..."

_Consume it all. Bring it all down to the ground, every last splinter. Destroy it all. _The wood crackled, shifted, groaned, finally collapsing under the strain as the flames ripped holes into the structures, disturbing the delicate architecture.

"CANADA!"

The shout of his name and the feeling of desperate fingers clutching at his uniform finally bring him back to his senses. He looks down to see his brother, collapsed on the ground, tears staining his cheeks with reflected firelight. Blue eyes filled with hurt turn upwards to meet his purple ones.

In those eyes, he can see the sorrow, the pain, the aching... But not just from the destruction of his land, the deaths of his people. No, he also sees the pain from his past actions, the ache of regret.

He sees his face, reflected by those tears, and it scares him. It scares him, the similarity between them. This was what his brother had looked like, months ago, when he was in the position his twin is in now. They are a mirror image of that time. It scares him.

And yet... He also feels comfort, in knowing that even though they are divided, that their connection had been severed, they are still alike.

"America..."

* * *

**_- Autumn-Winter, 1814, Ghent, Belgium -_**

"Canada?"

Said nation jumps, startled by the familiar voice. He turns slowly, hesitantly.

"CANADA!" A jubilant America jumps on him, startling him even more. They fall to the ground in a heap.

"Canada, you're here too! Gosh, England is so boring, and I really don't know Belgium, and the negotiations have been so dry and unamusing, and..." America rambles, ruffling his brother's hair in excitement.

Finally, Canada is able to get over his shock, and roughly pushed America off him, eyes blazing. America stops in the middle of his sentence as Canada looms over him.

"W-What's wrong, Canada?"

"What's wrong?" Canada replies, his voice quiet, his tone mocking. "What's wrong? Oh, maybe just a little thing called YOU INVADED MY LAND!"

Without giving his twin a chance to reply, Canada continues to rant. "What's wrong is that you declared a war that killed so many of our people, and for what? NOTHING! You just went ahead and did something rash, and impulsive, and so damaging, and you come and act like nothing whatsoever has happened at all! Do you not remember the pain? Do you not remember what you put us through? Are you really so thick headed as to not-"

"But I do."

Surprised, Canada stops, blinking. "W-What?"

America gets off the floor, not looking up, and brushes himself off. "How can I forget? How can I forget anything that I've done? You know."

Now America looks up. "You know what it is like. We are the same, after all. You know as well as I do that we never forget anything. But... we can try to repair our pasts. That's what I'm doing, Canada, that's what I want for us. I'm sorry. Will... will you forgive me?"

Canada is stunned. He had never thought America would apologize. But he isn't ready to forgive. Not yet.

"No."

And with that, he storms out of the room, past a confused Belgium, who looks to America. The nation, however, doesn't respond to her unasked question.

He merely crumples to the floor, a single tear tracing its way down his face.

* * *

_**- December, 1814, Ghent, Belgium -**_

It is done. America looks down at the treaty, the treaty he had just signed. It is finally over.

_But you were the one who caused it,_ a voice says in his mind. _You were the one who made things the way they are._

The voice sounds suspiciously familiar.

It sounds like...

Canada.

"Are you truly glad that it's over?"

America whirls around and sees his brother, standing behind him. "Canada?"

Canada's lips seem to twitch upwards, but it could be just America's imagination.

"Who else?"

A smile breaks out on America's face, and he moves to hug his twin. Then he stops himself, smile fading into a somber expression.

"Does... Does this mean you'll forgive me?"

Canada stares at him, expression full of conflict. Finally, he answers. "... Maybe."

America's shoulders fall.

"... OK, then. I understand," he whispers, turning away and making his way to the door.

_Do you?_

America freezes, his hand still on the doorknob. That thought... That wasn't his.

_C-Canada?_ he thinks, shakily.

"Oui, brother." This time, a smile does grace Canada's face, although it is filled with sadness.

"Does this mean...?"

Canada shrugs. "I know England hasn't forgiven you yet for breaking away, but he still loves you. Did you truly think I would be any different?"

America's eyes fill with tears, and he throws himself at his brother. This time, Canada allows the hug, his arms gently wrapping around the other.

"Shh... It's OK..." he whispers as America sobs into his shoulder.

_Canada... I'm so sorry..._

_I understand. But I can't forgive you, not until my people have._ Canada pulls away, holding America at arms length, searching his eyes for understanding.

America gulps, and nods. Then he bursts into tears again.

"I-I missed you so much, Canada..."

"I did too." This time, Canada is the one to initiate the hug. "Never do that again, America. Don't make us go through this again."

"I promise." America buries his face in Canada's uniform, and Canada embraces him tighter

They stayed like that for minutes. And when they finally broke away, they were content.

Not healed, no, they could never be completely healed.

But content, and ready.

Ready for the future.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew, that took a long time... And a lot of research... Stupid War of 1812. It wasn't even completely _in_ 1812!

Translations: (For Canada's random-ish bursts of French :P)

Désolé - Sorry

Revenez à moi - Return to me (or Come back to me, whichever floats your boat)

Oui - yes (But you should know that, right?)

**Historical Notes:**

First of all, I would like to point out that the state of Michigan and the province of Ontario did not yet exist at this point in history. They were Michigan Territory and Upper Canada. (Or, at least, the southernmost parts of Ontario were Upper Canada. Whereas Lower Canada was what is now Quebec and the most of northern Ontario. ... Anyone care to explain to me the logic behind this? O.o?)

ON TO THE HISTORY!

The newly formed United States declared war on Great Britain (and its colonies) on June 18th, 1812. However, due to lack of communication speed at the time, the Canadians (or are they technically the British? British-Canadian?) only found out on July 17th. It took even longer for the actual _British_ British to hear about it. The American's main reasons were 1) British restrictions on American trade with France via the Orders in Council (which they actually repealed before they even heard about the declaration of war), 2) impressment, where random sailors were taken and forced into the British navy, 3) the British supporting the Native Americans, who were raiding American villages, 4) pride and honor (pfft), and 5) American expansionism (aka wanting to annex Canada. Though they don't teach us this in school. I WONDER why... *cough*sarcasm*cough*). So after declaring war, the Americans immediately invaded Canada, thinking it would be easy to take, and ordered them to surrender. They were wrong. The Canadians had no intention of just sitting by while random Americans stormed their home. And the Canadian militia was a lot more organized and well trained.

(Oh, yeah, America also invaded Canada during the American Revolution. They succeeded at first in taking the land, but then they failed and got beaten back. Some brother America is...)

So anyways, the Canadians pushed the Americans out, and then they were like, "Let's go on preemptive offense!" and invaded America. At least they didn't epic fail like the Americans and actually managed to capture Detroit.

Then some random armistice thingy was signed, preventing the Canadians from invading America again. The moment the armistice ended, though, the Americans immediately invaded Canada again. And failed. Again. Seeing a pattern here? However, they did manage to kill a rather important military leader, Major General Isaac Brock. He's the "important leader" guy Canada talks about when America is accusing him of murder.

Speaking of that scene, basically what happened was the Americans were trying to take back Detroit, and managed to seize a nearby town called Frenchtown (yes, it was seriously called that), but got counterattacked by the British/Canadians/Native Americans who were guarding it. The Americans surrendered, and the British/Canadians didn't leave enough guards to guard the prisoners, so random Native Americans began to rob/pillage them (I'm not sure why. Couldn't find info on that...). The British/Canadians panicked and marched the American prisoners away, but those who were too injured to escape the burning buildings or keep up died. And a lot of people were injured. And died. Americans called it the "River Raisin Massacre".

So! The Battle of York. Basically, the Americans were like, "Ooh! Let's go attack York even though it's not as strategic of a location as this other town just over there!", which I forgot the name of. So they did, and then they went into a frenzy (apparently, that's what the general's letters said anyways) and burned/looted a bunch of random buildings. And obviously, the Canadians got pissed. Very pissed. Yep yep.

The battle of Lake Erie was staged on - you guessed it! - Lake Erie. The Great Lakes were pretty important because of trading and shipping and stuff, so the Americans and the British had a big naval battle thing, where the Americans won and gained control of the area for the rest of the war. It was pretty important, but since Canada wasn't really involved and America doesn't seem like the seagoing type, it wasn't really included...

Not a lot of stuff happened in the beginning of the year 1814. (Probably just some minor scuffles and whatnot, I couldn't find anything on it...) Around the start of summer, the Americans began new assaults on the Niagara region and captured some stuff. But we already went over a lot of random invasion things, so I just skipped to the good part.

The burning of Washington! (Why is it District of _Columbia_, of all things? But I digress.) Hopefully you all know about this, considering the... large... amount of Canadian pride in it, and all the fanfics... Anyways. A group of British/Canadian soldiers came up from Bermuda(no idea what they were doing there...), went up the coast, landed in Maryland, and proceeded to march on Washington, driving the American militia out. They then went on to burn the important government buildings, including the White House (which you have probably all heard about :P).

In 1814, the two sides decided to negotiate for peace, as the war was going nowhere and was basically turning into a gigantic stalemate. They sent representatives to Belgium to talk about signing a peace treaty. Negotiations lasted for several months, with the Treaty of Ghent signed on December 24th, 1814. Ironically, slow communication times once again caused problems, as some random groups who didn't get the message that the war was over still had skirmishes in 1815.

Stupid War of 1812...

**Author's Note (continued):** Can you tell I really don't like this war? :P I mean, nothing happened because of it except an "Era of Good Feelings" between the US and Great Britain! Why'd they have to fight a freaking _war_ over it? Geez. Pointless, much? And the reasons are stupid too. I mean, what the heck? Stealing sailors from ships? Really, Britain? And wanting to invade Canada? Seriously, America? It was just all-around stupidity, in my opinion! Stupid War of 1812...

(EDIT: The iammathewian project people agree with me on this. Look up the first episode of Canada Eh! on Youtube. 1812: The Stupid War XD)

Anyways, this kind of turned into an exploration into characters psychology, which was not how I intended it... Oh well. Hope you liked it!

Also, at the end, it's kinda my headcannon that Canada and America can do the twin communication thingy. (The "connection" mentioned several times in the story wasn't just figurative, you know! *evil smirk* :P) Oh, yeah, and for the twins thing, Canada is the slightly older one. And way more responsible (although that's not headcannon, that's actual cannon).

I still need suggestions for wars between "family" characters! Just drop me a review or a PM if you have any suggestions!


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